Baked to Death (Cookies & Chance Mysteries Book 2)

by Catherine Bruns

  I sat back down at the table and took a sip from my fifth cup of coffee for the day while I thumbed the pages of the paper until I came to the obituaries. My heart skipped a beat as I focused on a picture of my ex-husband.

  The picture was a close-up. He looked handsome and happy, not ragged and desperate like the night he'd died. I bit into my lower lip as I stared at his wavy hair, eyes dark as coffee beans, and the strong, defiant jaw. My stomach muscles tightened as recognition set in. Colin was wearing a tux. The picture was from our wedding day. Did they really have to use that one?

  Colin David Brown, age 29. Beloved son of Elizabeth Brown and the late Arthur Brown. Brother of Krista Brown Eldridge and Kyle Brown. Husband of Sally Muccio Brown. Also survived by two nieces—

  The room started to spin and I whimpered. "Josie?" I managed to squeak out.

  Josie got up from her chair and hurried over to my side. Mitzi came running in from the back room. I guess my squeak was more of a scream.

  Josie studied my face with concern. "Sal, what's wrong?"

  I glanced at her then at Mitzi leaning against the counter as I kept the paper clutched to my chest. I could have sworn Mitzi was smirking. I looked away and tried to steady my voice. "Mitzi, I really need to talk to Josie alone. You can leave a few minutes early."

  "No problem whatsoever." She went into the back room to grab her stuff.

  My best friend grabbed my arm. "What is it?"

  I handed her the paper. She read the obituary silently to herself, lips moving, and I watched as her face paled.

  "Oh my God, Sal. How could they do this to you?"

  Before I could muster a reply, my phone buzzed from my jeans pocket. I glanced at the screen. "Hi, Mom."

  "Sweetheart," she whined into the phone. "What have those people done to you? Is this some kind of terrible joke? We just looked at the paper. Your father is going bananas."

  I slumped in my chair. "I know. I saw it, too."

  "Why?" My mother wanted to know. "Why would they do this to you? Was it Elizabeth?"

  "I'm not sure. Krista said she always talked about Colin and me like we were still a couple. She mentioned there were other things going on but wouldn't really elaborate on the phone when she called."

  "Oh, honey," my mother moaned. "Don't worry about a thing. Your father and I will be there to protect you at the wake. Grandma and Gianna are coming, too."

  I winced inwardly. I knew my mother meant well, but chances were that my entire family showing up at Colin's wake would not prove to be peaceful. They didn't do well at funeral services. I was thankful this was not the same funeral home that my father was currently driving for. "Mom, you don't have to do that."

  "Wild horses wouldn't keep us away. I mean, the boy was our son-in-law. I'm sorry he's dead, but it doesn't excuse what he did to you. I feel so badly for his poor mother." Mom clucked her tongue. "Have you heard anything from Mike?"

  Tears were welling in my eyes again. "Nothing."

  "He'll be back," she assured me. "He loves you, honey. And I was just talking with your father. We want you to move back home for a while. You shouldn't be alone right now."

  "I'm okay, Mom. I'm splitting time between his house and mine. I have to take care of Spike, remember? Oh, Grandma said I can bring him over to the house when we leave on Wednesday. Is that okay with your allergies and everything?"

  She giggled, and I stared at the phone, mystified. "That reminds me. Your father and I have a surprise for you. It's going to make you feel so much better about everything."

  "What's that?" I asked.

  Mom was silent for a moment then she giggled again. "No. I'm not going to tell you now. Then it will really be a surprise."

  I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. God, I hated surprises.

  "I want you to come for dinner tonight. You can bring Spike with you. Tomorrow's going to be a tough day, honey. You need your family around you."

  "All right. I'll be there in an hour or so."

  Josie was still standing at my side, her eyes shooting daggers at the paper. "I can't believe they would do this. You've been divorced for over four months. Just wait until I see the Brown family tomorrow night."

  I removed the paper from her hands. "No. We're not going to say anything."

  "Sal, how can you let them treat you like this?"

  I pleaded with my best friend. "Maybe it was an accident. Maybe they meant to say former wife. All I know is Colin's wake is not the proper time to bring this up." We'll close up an hour early tomorrow and then go over."

  "I could stay and close up for you," a voice said.

  I whirled around. Mitzi was standing there in her wool coat and hat, watching us, a small smile perched on her lips.

  I clamped my mouth shut in anger. How long had she been listening? "No thanks, Mitzi. Good night. See you in the morning."

  "Oh, I forgot my gloves." She turned and walked into the back room again.

  I waited till she had disappeared and lowered my voice to a whisper. "She was listening. Mitzi is really starting to bother me. There is something off about her."

  Josie frowned. "I don't think so. And she was a huge help today. She freed me up so much that I was able to sort through a bunch of recipes for the contest and make some extra doughs for use while we're gone. Exactly what is your problem with her?"

  "I don't trust her."

  She waved her hand impatiently. "Oh, please. That's because of what you're going through with Mike. It's clouding your judgment about everything."

  "And what is that supposed to mean?"

  She put her hands on her hips. "It all relates to your divorce. You finally thought you found a man you could trust. And now you're afraid you might be wrong about him."

  I clenched my fists at my sides. "That isn't true. He didn't kill Colin. I'd bet my life on it."

  Josie sighed. "Look, Sal, we've been friends for a long time. I don't want to see you hurt again. Maybe you should forget about him. Especially if he is guilty."

  My mouth dropped open in astonishment. "I can't believe you would say that. You know he didn't do this."

  She thrust her hands forward. "Then he shouldn't have left town. It makes him look really bad. I was talking to Rob last night and—"

  "Stop. Just stop." I whirled on my heel and started for the staircase. Mitzi was in the doorway, staring at me again with that smirk I longed to knock off her face. Instead, I pressed my lips together tightly, afraid something might leak out that I'd regret later.

  "You can both let yourselves out. Josie, please lock the back door when you leave. I'll take care of everything else." I thumped my way loudly up the wooden staircase.

  Josie called up to me. "Sal, wait. Please. I didn't mean anything by it."

  I turned around and glared down the stairs at her. "I am so done talking to you."

  I rushed up the last three steps and slammed the door to my apartment behind me. Within seconds, I'd raised the volume of the television as high as it would go. Then I ran into the bathroom and, for the second night in a row, promptly burst into tears.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The last time Josie and I had a fight was in the fifth grade. We were both eleven, and it had concerned a boy. Josie had a huge crush on Jimmy Caruthers and prayed he'd ask her to an upcoming dance. Instead, he'd invited me. Even though I'd refused, Josie was furious when she found out. We'd exchanged words, but our disagreement didn't last long. Not after my grandmother had brought us both together in the same room and demanded we apologize to one another.

  That was over seventeen years ago. Josie and I didn't fight—it was as simple as that. We were always honest with each other about our feelings, which is why we were able to maintain such a strong friendship. We weren't afraid to tell each other the truth and never sugarcoated the situation. Josie had tried to be truthful with me, but I didn't want to hear it.

  Anger formed in a ball at the pit of my stomach. Everyone seemed to think Mike was guilty. Maybe I was afraid I'd sta
rt to believe it myself.

  I pulled into my parents' driveway and shut the engine off. As I glanced around into the black, miserable night, I felt as if I was sinking into my own endless well of depression with no way to climb out. I opened the rear door of my car, and Spike jumped into my arms. I hugged him against my chest and started toward the house, my boots crunching the snow.

  I was slowly alienating people around me. True, I still had my parents and Gianna to lean on, but there was only one person who could help me out of the despair I was quickly sliding into. The same person who had been my rock for my entire life.

  Grandma Rosa was waiting inside the front door. I set Spike down on the rug and hugged her. She closed the door and patted my back reassuringly.

  She whispered in my ear. "I know, cara mia. Things look very bleak now. But they will get better. I promise." She studied my face. "You have not eaten anything today, have you?"

  I shook my head. "No appetite."

  She patted my cheek. "Everyone is in the dining room finishing up. There is lasagna and a nice green salad, and I made your favorite for dessert." She wagged a finger. "But not until you finish everything on your plate first." At times Grandma Rosa still talked to both Gianna and me like we were children, but perhaps we always would be to her. On days like this, I found it comforting.

  "You must keep your strength up," she said. "You will need it when the vultures descend upon you at the wake tomorrow."

  Gee, what a cheerful thought. No doubt she was right though. The wake was being held in a neighboring town. Colin's parents had sold their house in Colwestern after Kyle had graduated from high school and moved into a smaller one about fifty miles away. I assumed several people would have heard about me and be foaming at the mouth. They were lying in wait for the black-hearted woman who had lied about her divorce and whose current boyfriend was rumored to have murdered her husband. It was almost like a bad soap opera.

  For now, there were also people from my hometown who I would have to contend with.

  Loud banging on the front door startled us both. Grandma Rosa looked through the peephole and sighed as she opened it.

  In walked Mrs. Gavelli wagging her finger in my face. Like my grandmother, she was in her seventies. Her coarse gray hair was pulled back in a severe bun. She wore a long black coat that matched her recent mood. Her wrinkled face surveyed me with disgust.

  "I knew you no nice girl," she spat out. "You live in sin with one man and look what happen. You make him kill your husband. Is all your fault."

  "Nice to see you, too, Mrs. Gavelli." Somehow, I managed a straight face.

  She gave a loud harrumph. "You no funny. Why you lie about divorce? Is not right." She gestured at my grandmother. "You raise a harlot here."

  My grandmother pointed toward the door. "Out, pazza. And my Sally did not lie. She and the boy were divorced months ago. You know this and also that he was unfaithful to her. The obituary got it all wrong."

  "Yah, that what they all say." Mrs. Gavelli poked her finger into my grandmother's chest. "And why you call me crazy? You the one with the wacky family."

  My grandmother pursed her lips together tightly and paused before answering. "I will count to three, and you had better be gone. And you stay away from that wake tomorrow night. We do not need you stirring up trouble. Sally will have enough problems."

  Mrs. Gavelli puffed out her chest. "I guess I go where I want."

  "Not if you want to live to see the light of day." Grandma Rosa reached for an umbrella in the stand by the door.

  "You no scare me." Mrs. Gavelli frowned at me. "And you teach this girl some morals."

  As she turned around and reached for the doorknob, Grandma Rosa whacked her in the behind with the umbrella.

  "I get you for that!" Mrs. Gavelli shrieked then slammed the door behind her.

  Grandma Rosa put her finger to the side of her head in a circular motion. "She has a few loose nails up there."

  I laughed. "You mean screws."

  She grunted. "Yes, that is what I said."

  Gianna walked in from the dining room and glanced at both of us in confusion. "What the heck is going on out here? Was Mrs. Gavelli here again?"

  I shrugged out of my coat. "She wanted to pay her respects to Colin's widow."

  Grandma Rosa bent down to pick up Spike. She scratched him behind the ears and chuckled as he licked her face. "Come on, little one. I have something special for you in the kitchen."

  My mother and father were sitting at the cherrywood dining room table. Dad had the paper opened to the obituaries in front of him, and I winced.

  Gianna placed a piece of lasagna on my plate and whispered in my ear. "All we've been hearing about is Colin's obit. Dad's on his third glass of wine, so hopefully he's starting to settle down."

  Dad held out his arms and motioned to me. "Come here, bella donna." The second I was in range, he hugged me tight and gave a loud hiccup. "No one treats my ba-baby girl like that."

  My mother placed a bowl filled with salad in front of me. "Really, Domenic. You're as drunk as a skunk." She sighed as her gaze met mine. "He got fired today."

  "Oh, Dad, I'm sorry." I sat in the chair to his left. My mother was at his right, and Gianna sat to my left. "What happened?"

  He snorted into his wineglass. "They said I talked too much. That I was bothering the mornings—er, the mourners. Where'd they get an idea like that?"

  "Gee, I wonder." Gianna kicked me under the table.

  "Poor honey," my mother crooned. She got up and kissed the top of his head.

  Grandma Rosa appeared from the kitchen and set a large glass of ice water in front of me. "Your father has a few loose nails, too."

  My father pointed a wavering finger at me. "Those Browns will hear from me tomorrow night. Absolutely shameful the way they're treating you. They always were a bunch of lowlifes. I bet the kid doesn't even have a decent coffin. Probably nickel and dime stuff."

  I almost choked on the lasagna I was chewing. "Dad, please don't say anything. His mother is suffering enough. We always got along well. Maybe she still saw me as her daughter-in-law. I don't think she meant any harm by it."

  "My gal Sal, you're too nice for your own good." He got to his feet unsteadily then leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  "I hope he's not going to burst into song," Gianna murmured.

  My mother put her arm around him. "Come on, honey. You should get some rest. It's been a rough day for you." She glanced over her shoulder at me. "Sweetie, please don't leave right after dinner. I want to have a girl talk and make sure you're okay."

  Grandma Rosa stood in the doorway. She jerked her thumb upward. "I will take care of Sally. Put that clown husband of yours to bed, and let him sleep it off."

  My mother blew me a kiss. They ascended the staircase, my father's shoes clumping loudly while he sang "(Don't Fear) The Reaper."

  Gianna wrapped her warm hands around my cold one. "How are you doing? Did Mike call?"

  I shook my head and stared down at my plate.

  She squeezed my arm. "Hey, he's coming back. You guys will get through this."

  "Here we are." Grandma Rosa placed a large piece of her famous cheesecake in front of me and kissed the top of my head.

  I glanced at the cake then at Gianna and my grandmother and burst into tears.

  Gianna threw her arms around me. "It's all going to be fine, honey. Mike's got one of the best criminal lawyers in the state. Jeff's been a huge help advising me, too."

  I wiped my eyes. "You don't think Mike did this, do you?"

  She looked at me in amazement. "Of course not. You know I don't."

  "Gianna." My grandmother sat down in my father's chair. "Go and stack the dishes. I will talk to Sally."

  "But Grandma—"

  She grunted and pointed toward the kitchen. "You go. Now."

  Gianna ruffled my hair but did as she was told. When she had left the room, Grandma Rosa took my hand between both of hers. "Look at me, Sally."<
br />
  I raised my head, expecting to see my grandmother's warm smile reassuring me, but instead, her lips were clamped together. Her eyes were dark and determined as they searched mine. "You must stop this feeling sorry for yourself."

  This was not what I'd expected to hear. "What are you talking about?"

  She cradled my face between her hands. "It is not good. You have to trust Mike to take care of himself. He will come home when he is ready."

  "But, Grandma, if the police find out he's left town before his court date, he'll be in lots of trouble. Gianna said so."

  "Bah. How will they find out? I am not going to tell anyone. He will come back. You need to focus your energy elsewhere."

  I sighed as I stared at her luscious ricotta cheesecake. This had always been my favorite dessert, and I didn't even have an appetite for it now. Boy, I was a hot mess. "If you're talking about the contest, I couldn't care less anymore. I have half a mind not to go."

  She grabbed my shoulders in a firm grip which startled me. "Now you listen to me. This contest is not just about you. Your best friend has her heart set upon it. She set everything up for the both of you. Have you forgotten that Josie has covered for you many times in the last few weeks so that you and Mike could spend some time together? Plus, she has a husband and four babies, too. Stop taking advantage of her."

  "Grandma, I would never do that. You know I love Josie."

  "Sì, but you are not thinking straight. Josie called here earlier. She told me you two had a fight. She was crying on the phone." Grandma Rosa clucked her tongue in disapproval. "Such good friends. Do not turn your back on her now. You need her. And you must stop this."

  "She thinks Mike murdered Colin. I can't believe she would—"

  Grandma Rosa looked at me soberly. "She does not think that. But maybe you are starting to believe it."

  My breath caught in my throat. "No. I will never believe that. But I'm scared and don't know what to do."